


Anathema

by LadyTheWarrior



Category: Dark Knight (2008), Dark Knight Rises (2012), The Joker Blogs (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Anger, Anger Issue, Anna(Original Female Character), Dark Romance, F/M, Insanity, Joker/OC - Freeform, Joker/OFC - Freeform, Joker/Original Female Character - Freeform, Madness, Multi, Post TDK, Pre Joker, Pre TDK, Sexual Content, The Joker - Freeform, jack napier - Freeform, knife, twisted relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8393035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTheWarrior/pseuds/LadyTheWarrior
Summary: [In-Progress]They were always hated by the world, swimming against the flow, fighting the definition of normalcy. "I started a joke which started the whole world crying." JokerXOC (Pre and Post TDK)





	1. Chapter 1

 

Prologue

The third floor of Arkham Asylum would look innocuous to an outsider, were any ever allowed inside. It was large and sprawling with winding halls leading off into separate holding areas. The sections looked exactly the same despite the fact that they served very different purposes. The walls of the narrowed corridors were damp, illuminated by dull white fluorescent lights glaring down. Silent, at first sight but nobody, except a few orderlies and some nurses seemed to know about the blood-curdling screams that were suffocated by soundproof cells.

Tonight was certainly one of those bad nights.

"This is Patrick Roberts from third floor—" the night shift guard, Patrick, was a tall blond man probably in his 20's. He was new to the psychiatric ward, not being familiar with the weird things going around. He'd been working as a museum night guard before he ended up at Arkham. Not everybody was brave enough to take a job at the asylum but rumors didn't matter to Patrick. So what if the legends said that the madhouse drove even the sane into complete nutjobs? still the payment was good. Five years working here and he'd never have to work ever again. But as it was his six months in Arkham, he slowly started to realize it was challenging to adapt to crazies' outbursts, especially the one that belonged to a certain room at the end of the second corridor.

"Patient #27299 is having a violent fit in her cell." he said, staring into a small screen with an expression that was a mix of disgust and fear. "She's doing harm to herself."

There should have been a dark whisper in the wind howling outside. Or maybe a deep chill in the bone. Something. A tightness in the air perhaps, that caused patient #27299 to choose this night to have another mental break down. To wreak havoc inside her cell and to cause a stressful night— not that the news about the transportation of a psychosis criminal from Blackgate to Arkham, hadn't made everybody uncomfortable enough.

Her room was one of the average ones. A padded cell, almost completely bare, with only a toilet behind a security camera and no big Plexiglass window. The walls behind her steel cot were stained with brown color, probably clotted blood if not something worse but no one cared enough to clean it up, anyway.

"Itch…itch…itch…itchingitichingitching… itch" Her soft whispers slowly turned into long chilling screams. "I have an itch inside my scars!" She scratched the deep scars, neatly marked in four parallel lines on her cheekbones and dug her nails in her skin and they started to bleed as if they were still fresh.

 _Blood_ , somewhat, excited her. When asked why? _It's my favorite color,_ she'd reply. She loved how it stained on her white hands and how warm it was, proving that she was still alive.

_Alive._

"Nurse Lawrance will be there to upper Thorazine's dosage," The voice behind the line said. "We're having a guest down here."

"W-what?" Patrick stuttered, looking warily at the screen as the inmate laughed hysterically at her bloody hands.

"A certifiable psycho who's got bad tastes in jokes." He struggled to cloak the anger in his tone.

A pang of horror seized Patrick's heart; he gulped and stammered unintelligible sounds before he spoke. "You can't possibly be talking about the Joker?"

The Joker was the hot topic -after the Batman- in the whole asylum for the last few months when he was first caught by the police and sent to Blackgate. If Patrick was to be honest with himself, he couldn't say after all the things that happened to Gotham- months ago- even hearing the terrorist's name, didn't unnerve him.

"Yeah, I'm talking about that fucker."

Suddenly the air became so brittle, it could snap any second. Patrick felt a chill creeping down his spine. It was just getting better and better with each passing second. He looked at the woman's image in the cell, sitting with crossed legs in the middle of the room and laughing her head off.

"I-I didn't know it was tonight! Didn't they have to wait for his trials, at least?"

"Nah, he's a fucking nutcase, they were looking for all excuses to send him away. It was unbearable for them to keep him at Blackgate." The voice paused for a second, letting the words sink in before saying. "You might wanna shut the others in your floor down before he arrives," He said bitterly, holding a hand over the speaker and talking to someone which was inaudible to Patrick. "We're not gonna give the bastard ideas on his first night here." He continued harshly." He's dangerous. "

Patrick had to stop for a minute and wipe the unwanted sweats off his forehead. "At least send some men up here, Dan." He sighed.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?!" Dan snapped. "That son of a bitch's like a ticking bomb; you never know when he goes off. Now go do your job and come down immediately, we may need more help."

Patrick couldn't help grimacing at his voice. "Well I don't exactly feel comfortable going in her cell, alone?"

"He's just a woman for Christ sake!" Dan scolded loudly." How hard is it gonna be for a guy with your size?"

Patrick looked back into the screen. His eyes narrowed slightly. Dan was right; having one trouble was enough for tonight and who could be a bigger trouble than the Joker himself.

"Fine!" He finally said," Where is this nurse Lawrance—?"

"I'm here Patrick," His gaze met with a pair of serious green eyes. The woman, nurse Lawrance, was middle-aged and had her brown hair pulled back and tied into a bun. She seemed to be an experienced nurse, wasn't very tall but had a strong well-toned body and a confident look on her stern face, one that Patrick very obviously lacked at the moment. She raised her hand, emphasizing on a needle she was holding and gestured to the blond man." Let's go put an end to her misery now." She said and started walking toward the corridor.

With a quick 'okay' Patrick hang up the phone and followed her steps. As they got closer to the cell the sound of commotion and hysterical laughs subsided little by little, until they finally reached the door. The sudden silence spreading over the second corridor, caused Patrick relief. _Maybe she got tired after all._ He stood in front of the keypad, sharing a look with Nurse Lawrance, he said. "She stopped." His tone more questioningly than stating what seemed too obvious.

Nurse Lawrance nodded her head carefully and positioned herself right in front of the door. "Don't let your guard down, Patrick." She warned. "I know this little rabbit. She likes to play games." She whispered but didn't let her eyes slip away the metal door as Patrick keyed in the code.

A small click and the lock opened. Patrick stood in front of Nurse Lawrance, his cold fingertips running along the hand cuffs he put in his belt, he let out a deep breath before finally stepping in.

_Hopefully she had fallen sleep, only hopefully for Patrick._

* * *

The wind howled between the branches of dead old trees around the outside area of Arkham's building. The building looked more like an old mansion. It was located outside the city, close to the Narrows and much far away from _decent neighborhoods._ The grounds surrounding the asylum resembled a small jungle. The yard was surrounded by a rusty, six-foot barbwire fence giving it a prison-like view. Several no-trespassing signs were hung along the fence and on the front and back gates of the building. The brown grass was thick and tall so that anyone could easily hide in it without ever being noticed. The out of date surveillance equipment was also evidence of a long history of budgetary restraints as far as the asylum was concerned.

Tonight though the staff's concern was even doubled. The thought of taking in the most dangerous man in Gotham City, surely made Arkham even unsafer than usual.

Daniel Garcia though didn't seem to be scared or concerned at all. He was furious. Despite all the dry laughs, he couldn't calm the anger boiling deep inside his system. The waiting for the Joker was excruciatingly long. He wasn't afraid of him like everybody else, he despised him and the thought of having him in a cell and the chance for beating him up to death was the only thing that helped me calm down.

_Not tonight. Definitely not tonight._

He and five other orderlies, all muscular and intimidating, were standing outside, waiting for the black van with GCPD sign on each sides to pass through the gate. The car took a turn around the stony fountain in the center and finally stopped at the stairs.

They'd finally arrived.

Dan's fingers tightened around the electric shock stick. Maybe he got to land a hit or two tonight, just giving a taste his own medicine to that clown.

Two guards got off and they hurriedly went to the back, opening the door for the prisoner. Dan's heart started pounding louder against his chest, his brow creased into a deep frown and his muscles tensed up all at once but he held the anger back. He had to wait for the right opportunity. He watched as the guards finally pulled the prisoner out.

The tall man in orange jumpsuit with untended greasy brown, yellow, greenish hair that was hanging limply about his scarred face, walked out. Even without the clown makeup he still had a wild look, still intimidating to get close to. His head was down, as heavily armored men, took him by arms and practically shoved him to the stairs.

"We take him from here." Dan said coldly, gesturing at the others.

That was when he finally looked up. His eyes, two eternal holes even blacker than the darkness itself, locked with Dan's and they shone with a predatory, animalistic gleam.

_How Dan wanted to tear up him right now._

_Patience, though. Patience._

* * *

The moment Patrick stepped inside the cell, nurse Lawrance knew something was off.

Patrick's loud screams echoed in the room, as he swirled around and tried to detach the much smaller woman on his back. He was careless, not paying any attention to her, crouching near the door so as the door opened she lung at him and jumped on his back.

With him screaming, the patient started to scream dramatically, as if she mocked the man's cries by mimicking him as she held onto his head, digging her fingernails into the area near his eye sockets, trying to gouge his eyeballs. He pushed his back against the walls, struggling to pry open her fingers and break free from her unnaturally strong grip but it seemed as if she was glued to him with each an every hit to the walls, she only laughed louder.

Howling in excruciating pain, Patrick finally fell on his knees and grabbed the patient's wrists, then with all the strength he had, he twisted them, causing her to cry in pain for once then he pulled her over his head and hurled her down.

"Arghh… you crazy bitch!" He screamed.

Nurse Lawrance finally entered the cell. She stood over Patrick's head. "Hold her down!" She ordered.

Patrick used his chance to put all his weight on her small body. Her limbs flailed wide as she convulsed, struggling to breath. Nurse Lawrance knelt next to her and without further preparation stuck the needle in her arm and pulled the syringe-plunger down slowly.

* * *

Her eyelids were getting heavy and it was hard to move her limbs. She blinked and blinked, fighting to retain consciousness. They wanted to hurt her and they did but at least being awake, pain was only physical and she could tolerate physical but in sleep, it brought back nightmares, it shattered her mind into little fragments, she couldn't tell it they were real or only delusions. Dying had always been a better option throughout these years, but they wouldn't let her and she just didn't want to. If only she hadn't promised him— If only she hadn't promise to wait for him to come back...

She was numb all over, unaware of the tears that were now falling. _She missed him._ She told herself everyday. She missed him so much and she was oh so-sorry for all the things that she'd done to him. She hurt him and now it was her turn, it was all a fair game. _But wasn't it enough, already?_ She needed something to calm her, but not the syringe and not the pills. They'd just turn her brain into a marshmallow. She wanted something... soothing.

Unknowingly then, she started to hum a tune. A beautiful lullaby lifted from somewhere in her subconsciousness. The one he used to lull for their baby as he gently caressed her belly. The one that would send her flying back to their good ol' days. The one that made her forget about her stuck-up mommy and heroin addicted daddy. It only brought back his face, so serene, so calm, so beautiful... _his face._

Her gentle humming filled the room, floating out as it slowly turned into a song.

* * *

_"I fell out of bed,_

_hurting my head from things that I'd said_

_Till I finally died, which started the whole world living,_

_Hmm if I'd only seen_

_That the joke was on me"_

The six orderlies that had surrounded the criminal clown- hand cuffed and ankles chained together- walked through the corridor with stern faces, slightly frowned. Cold serious expression probably thinking about the many different ways they could torture the man in their grasp -they hoped- not even caring about the humming sound, not paying the slightest attention to the song that was beautifully being sung by a fragile voice.

The voice that only he recognized.


	2. Pain Is Real

_**Chapter one: Pain Is Real** _

Anna sat on a stool in the balcony, lighting a cigarette and sucking on it so hard for so long that it seemed as if the entire thing might burn off in one drag. She stared at the white canvas on the easel, exhaling while playing with a paintbrush in her hand. She felt strangely optimistic today, it made her in the good mood for creating something. Anything. She wasn't sure herself.

She pressed the brush in the grease colors on the palette. Starting with something exciting to bring out her inner thoughts more easily. Crimson. _That's it_. Crimson _red._ A ravaging color, that worked as a double blade. It was both haunting and loving and oh… _so hot_. A smile crept on her lips and she took another drag on her cigarette while moving the brush on the canvas.

She brushed on two curving shapes near the middle. Then she took some cadmium red light with a little white and put it on a blank area. After that she mixed a dot of cobalt into the red on her palette and formed another shape between the red and the orange. She paused, using the rose between the yellow and the orange then mixing them all with palette knife.

As it went this way, it slowly made sense to her what she really wanted to paint and hopefully her skillful hand went exactly the way she wanted it to go. In a matter of seconds the colors lay around on the palette, varying the force and touch and angle of the brushes, layering and over painting to capture the essence of the dazzling colors of two human bodies. Two connected souls.

She stared at the picture for a while. The canvas wasn't white anymore; it was drawn in pure, saturated colors. She loved it and as joyful as the painting was for her, it made her feel a little sad. Life had been tough lately that she had little time to put effort into the things and people she cared about.

Both painting and _him._

She closed her eyes and took one last drag on the cigar before tossing it away. Then she set down the palette and brushes. Stretching her arms and inhaling the heady resin and the lingering smoke smell, She stood and took a few steps away from the painting.

A frown formed behind her brown bangs but before she got a chance to make a comment about how awful she thought her supposed art looked to her, two hands blocked her vision from behind.

 _That goddamn telepathy._ She swore, unconsciously smiling. " Jack. " She breathed, running her own hands along the familiar arms. His hands slowly slipped down and she turned around. "Quiet as always, huh?"

Jack ran a hand through his curly brown hair and flashed a big smile. "Well you were busy," he pointed at her back; probably at the unfinished painting."it's been a while." He said, kissing her at the corner of her mouth.

Jack had always been such a sweetheart. Looking at those little puppy eyes, she sometimes hated herself for the disappointed look in them. She gave him another quick smile and kissed him back. His breath smelled of coffee. And she absolutely loved coffee.

"So what were you painting?" Anna followed his gaze, looking at the curvy red and orange shapes that mostly looked like human abstracts. There were no face or any other details to indicate who or what they were only the colors were perfectly harmonized. She didn't exactly planned on showing this to him. At least not now. Not like this. _Hell, he'd seen it anyway._ what could she do about it now? There was no point in hiding it.

"Well it's supposed to be," she said, scratching her head and putting her hands on her hips. "Us." She replied sincerely, turning to eye him carefully all the same.

She never considered herself a shy blushing type of girl and he knew that. Still though when he looked at her briefly and smirked a little, she couldn't stop her cheeks from flushing. "Interesting," He said, his eyes shifting back to the painting, he started walking to it, putting a hand on his chin, staring at it thoughtfully. "But wait a second," He tilted his head and that caused her to raise a suspicious brow. He pointed to the blue line between the shapes. "Is that my penis? Cause as far as…ah… " Gesturing at himself and then her, he smiled widely. "We both know it's never been this small."

 _That was unexpected_. She grinned and decided to play along. "Well it depends on which angle you look at it."

Jack put his hand on his chest sarcastically. "That was cold, Anna. "

"Well if it's any consolation, I gotta say, it's not finished yet. " She laughed, walking back inside and to the kitchen. " Want something baby? Coffee?"

Jack followed her steps, slumping on a gray soda in the living room, he waved. "Coffee's always welcome." With a sigh, he quickly changed the subject. "Remember how we talked about throwing an exhibition for your paintings?"

Anna looked up from the pot of coffee. " Yeah." She answered nonchalantly. "But you were joking. "

Jack sat straight and cocked an eyebrow. If she didn't know Jack's care-free attitude, she would've though he looked slightly offended. " Do I really look like a guy who joke about something like that?"

She looked over at him, narrowing her eyes. "Yeah." She replied wryly.

"Okay, but I wasn't joking that one time." He stood up, implying that he was indeed being serious this time. "I found just the right place for it. It's not classy but it _is_ something."

Honestly his sincerity struck her like a lightning. "No you didn't." She said skeptically.

"See, I found this… ah…" he rolled his eyes and continued. " This really funny guy who kinda… in a way offered me to throw an exhibition for my girlfriend's paintings in his relatively small antique shop, so… that's that. Ya want an Art Gallary? Done. "

He got her mouth hanging open. It was unbelievable. Not that she didn't trust Jack's wholeheartedly support but she couldn't believe that he probably got himself in trouble, _again_ , to do something. There were butterflies in her stomach, she couldn't hide her happiness. So leaning on the counter, she looked straightly in his eyes, trying to find any trace of sarcasm but she couldn't find any and that alone just made her feel all giggly and excited.

Still though, she narrowed her eyes and gave him a quick suspicious look. "What have you done Jack?" she asked playfully. " You haven't beaten the shit outta the guy, have you?" she stared into his eyes. " Like that one time in the office… with your boss."

He wasn't taken aback, leaning similarly on the other side of the counter. He grinned. "That one time felt _sooo_ good."

That cracked her into a laugh. She threw her head back and started giggling loudly. Then she walked to him and circled her arms around his neck, giving a kiss on his cheek. "You're sick."

"Well you think you're any better?" He gazed at her, asking tauntingly.

"Worse. Cause I'm livin' with ya."

* * *

The cell was small, so tiny to hold all these unwanted pain inside of it. It made her wonder how it was capable of doing that. Capable of imprisoning her mind. Her feelings. She couldn't just escape from them. Even when she tried to get lost in happy moments, those dark memories always bugged in. Haunting her. There were just so many things she wished she had a chance to change; but that wasn't possible, was it? No. Not when he wasn't around. Not when he was gone.

But he promised to come back.

"He promised." She whispered, struggling to breath as more tears slipped from her eyes.

Something inside her brain was _itching_. Something was burning and she didn't know how to cool it off She didn't want to go back there, she didn't want to see herself making all those bad decisions. But she also knew she couldn't stop herself from reliving those memories. So ,Pushing through the sedative, she faced the wall to which her cot was bolted, chose a hard spot that wasn't padded and started hitting her head gently to it. But that wasn't enough. That wasn't working. They still kept coming.

_Not working. Not working._

Reeling back, she bashed her forehead against it as hard as she could. Stars exploded before her eyes still though squeezing her eyes shut, she kept on bashing nonetheless until her favorite color came to life. It hurt but still it was real. Unknowingly she smiled and tried to think of the good times she had had.

* * *

It was after midnight when Jack stopped the car in front of a small, seedy-looking hotel. A red neon sign above its wooden door supposed to spell out ' Caesear Hotel' in rounded art deco type lettering if half the letter weren't burnt out. A homeless man also sat next to the door, holding onto a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. Jack took a minute to look at the whole thing before turning off the engine. As soon as he did so, Anna glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror and dug through in her purse, pulling out a red lipstick, She carefully applied it before turning to Jack.

" How much do you got?" She asked.

Reluctantly Jack reached in his pants pocket and pulled a wad of money and put it in her hand. "2000 bucks."

Anna eyed the money for a second, slightly frowning, she said. " That's it?"

"Oh you want more?" Jack asked bitterly, shaking his head disapprovingly.

She let out a deep sigh. Now certainly wasn't the time for all those arguments they had had a thousand times before. She had to kept herself in a happy mood. "We talked about this Jack." She said, frustrated of how he looked at him accusingly.

"Yeah and know what? You were supposed to stop it. "

"Stop it? " She laughed dryly, looking away. " Sure. I'm a pro at poker, when are you going to acknowledge me?"

"You're not stupid Anna. Don't act like you are." He said a little louder than he intended to. " This isn't the way. One slip. _One. Single. Mistake_ and you're done for. "

This time she turned to face him and looked into his dark eyes. It was getting so hard to swallow her anger and frustration. _Why didn't he get it?_ Gambling- She the best at it. No sweat, no tremble, no twitch. She was good at bluffing and she enjoyed it and he planned to take it away from her? No no, she wouldn't let him. No matter how good his intentions were.

Closing her eyes, Anna took a deep breath, before closing her distance to him. She placed her hands gently on his face, whispering. " Jack, baby… you worry too much. Nothing's going to happen." Her lips slightly parted. " Smile. Cause I'm a winner tonight! " She said, kissing his lips but as he opened his mouth slightly to invite in her tongue, she pulled away. Smiling before getting out of the car.

"Anna… " He rasped, looking desperately at her.

"I love you, too. " She winked, before disappearing into the shabby building.

* * *

The first few nights at a new place, always unsettled him a little. But this time— oh definitely not this time. He found the asylum more than comfortable. Of course he'd always had a few jokes up his sleeve to work on the guards' lack of sense. _Of. Humor_. But overall—well he loved it here. A roof over his head, free food, lovely music… his mind swirled back to the familiar voice from last night.

_Lovely voice._

He couldn't exactly put his finger on it but he knew he'd heard it before. _Somewhere._ It was frustrating yet interesting all the same. _That_ could keep his mind busy for a while. He was always u- _p_ for a good game. Did the _little girl_ singing down the hall feel the same? _Yes._ He hoped she did.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter Two : Bad Company_ **

 

As he was sitting in the car, in front of the "Caesar Hotel", he started thinking about all the reasons he wanted her to stop playing. But the question was: Did he really? _No no_ how could he ? when she was the one who first said how your life is ending one minute at a time and how you gotta do what you really want to do before that happens. Poker was a part of her as well as painting. It was just the people she got involved with that scared him. He wasn't stupid. Anna might have not told him about them but he knew who they were. _The mob._ They had their own rules and to break them, meant death or… worse even. And he wasn't going to lose her. He was too selfish to let that happen, to her go away like that. _No_ not after all the things that she'd done to him.

 _Let's wind back the clock to a year ago._ When Jack first met Anna at a very strange time of his life.

He was a typical guy living a normal life. A slave of society, working a job he hated and buying shit he never really needed. Only that he couldn't really sleep. Every morning when he was getting ready to go to the office, he would look into the mirror at the face he barely recognized, trying to convince himself that this was life. _Pointless and dull._

"This is you Jack." Fixing his tie in the mirror, looking dully at the pathetic man in the white shirt in the mirror. "This is your life."

That all changed though when _She_ stepped in the picture. She had disordered the balance he ever so hardly tried to achieve in life yet kept the different sides of him together. It seemed as if he'd found a missing part of himself in her. Something he was too much of a pussy to admit out loud but she brought it out in him, cherished it and letting it grow.

She called herself Anna. _Anna, the sweet funny artist girl; Anna the wild beast in bed, like she had two different personalities. Anna the voice at the back of your head; the tumor in your brain; Anna the cancer that you can't live without; the one thing that restricts you yet gives you all the freedom you need._

And he started to love her.

Sometimes he accused himself of being a masochist. He loved that how she never really cared about anything, talked freely and acted as if it was her last day on earth. He loved to stay awake all night worrying when she went away playing poker. He couldn't cure his insomnia but now at least it had a reason. _Her._ His affection for her grew like a benign tumor. In an uncontrolled way and likely to cause death. He knew he would shatter into a thousand shreds if she was removed.

It's funny how some people assume that they change throughout their lives by getting stuck in different situation, fighting obstacles or simply meeting new people. The truth is people don't change. They just find their inner self; they accept it and eventually try to bring it out. She might have seen that in him and _that_ … was only a trigger for something bigger.

The brown curly hair girl showed up one night at the back of a bar, where he used to sometimes go due to his insomnia. Surely sitting behind an easel in a bar drew everybody's attention but the fact that no guy or girl dared to stand around her for too long, indicated on the strange aura surrounding her. She was new there; wasn't talking to anyone and wasn't drinking either. Her face was hidden behind the heavy cloud of smoke, taking only curious glances from her surroundings.

Jack gazed at her in that black halter that was in a funny contrast with her extremely pale skin. Small and skinny, she was so delicate you would scare to touch her to hurt her but if you did so, you would want to slowly smother her. He shook his head from side to side at that; something told him that she was no ordinary puppy, though.

With that cigar lingering by her dark red lips and those hazy eyes following the movements of the brush on the canvas, she attracted him cause in that very moment, she was the most interesting and important case in the whole universe for Jack.

"You see all kinds of people here but an artist." Jack said, going over to her and flashing one of those charming smiles, causing her to look up with a raised brow. "I'm Jack." He stuck his hand out to her.

She puffed on her cigarette and shook his hand. " Anna. "

This close, Jack could see how her brown bangs covering her forehead had covered her one green eye as well. He couldn't get his eyes off her. She was around her early twenties and was the true definition of beauty, wasn't really skinny either. Her muscle definition was perfect and her skin was like silk over glass.

Jack took a quick glance at the canvas then looked over his shoulder at the bar. Loud music, greasy bar food, peanuts, chips. Jangle of voices. Men and women who looked older than they were, slumped on bar, pint glasses, shot glasses, someone crying in corner, anguish lost in hubbub and din, standing drinkers at the bar, couples in secluded bays, laughing, back clapping, drinking games, another round, pink cheeks, boasting, swearing, threatening, fights—

_What did she try to paint in here?_

"Gotta say Anna, you chose an awful place to create art." He pointed, yelling in between the entire hubbub.

Her lips curled in a mischievous grin, as she took another drag. "Beauty's found inside."

She didn't strike him as the naïve type. But that was the most optimistic shit he'd ever heard and he couldn't help but to smirk at that. "Hate to break it to you but –" he said, Leaning close almost as if he wanted to kiss her. He looked at her to see if she nudge him but she didn't even flinch a muscle, staring right in his eyes with the same smile plastering on her lips. "We all are rotten inside." He whispered in her ear.

When he pulled away, she was still staring and then she blinked at him, threw her head back and started to laugh, her chest caving as her shoulders shook and she clutched her elbows in a helpless attempt to contain her easy mirth. A contagious chortle came from Jack as he watched her, amused.

"You're… you're…" She just couldn't stop laughing. Gasping, she finally got out a weak "funny." as she doubled over trying to stop as she wiped away tears. "Buy me a drink." She chuckled. "I really need to get drunk with ya, Jack."

The next morning they woke up naked, tangled in each other's arms. His night life had collided with day ones but he didn't feel weird or embarrassed about it. He felt free and excited. Anna was a trigger to something Jack never even thought existed in him. And starting from that day, it all began to go downwards.

Getting Jack to where he was now. In a car, staring at the hotel door, his woman had disappeared into. He pulled out his pack of cigarette, took one out and puffed meditatively. There was no pointing waiting for her outside when he knew she'd always come back. Safe and sound. _Safe and… sound._ He repeated while starting the engine.

* * *

"That's your ten thousands." The Italian young man placed a leather black bag on the table. It was full of full money. _Ten thousands._ She thought excitedly, likely to explode in happiness. Surely the shabby hotel room on the second floor full of Gotham's gangsters and mobsters unnerved her at the beginning but now none of it mattered. She had won and was going to get her prize. She opened the bag to check the dollars for one last time.

"You wanna count?"

Looking up absentmindedly with a smile on her face, she shook her head. " No no no, no need for that" She looked around momentarily at the suited men, they were armed. Of course they were. They were all part of the Falcone family. One of the greatest mobsters in Gotham city but she loved a good challenge. And this was it. She just won against the mobs. She couldn't wait to tell Jack all about it, now.

"Well, gentlemen " She zipped the bag, still smiling. " Pleasure playing Poker with ya. " nodding before turning on her heels.

"What's your name?" She turned to look at the guy with salt-and-pepper hair in gray suit. Sitting comfortably on a leather cushion, puffing on his cigar thoughtfully. They called him 'Salvatore Maroni' an important member of Falcone's crime family. He had a smug smile on his face that made Anna's stomach twisting into a knot. She actually considered ignoring him and leaving the hotel but considering that his men basically overflowed the whole building it was impossible to just walk away.

"Anna."

"You're getting famous around here, " He stated calmly. " Anna." Running his hand along the blond girl's thigh who was sitting on his lap, he continued. "You might wanna be careful about it. "

Her smile dropped instantly when she got a good look at the man's eyes. And for the first time in a long time, she realized she was in deep trouble. A quick glance from the corner of her eyes, seeing how the men had tugged their hands in their coats, probably holding tightly to some kinda of handgun, proved her point. It was too late to run now; she had to try bluffing her way out.

"Listen—"

"No Anna… you listen," He held up his hand, indicating others to step back. "I'm sure boss likes to have someone like you around, " Raising a brow, he pointed at himself. " I _love_ that. "

Forcing a smile, she waved breezily. " I'll consider that." _Bluff._ She would run away and never look back ever again. For the time being though she wanted to maintain the façade of bravery even though it was getting hard with each passing second. Anna had never regretted any decision in her life before this.

"Well you're walking out of here with a bag full of money." Another smile crossed Maroni's lips as he pushed the girl off his lap and stood up, straightening his suit." Of course you do. "

Naturally Anna took a step back, raising her both hands in defense. "Look, It was all a fair game."

Walking with a fancy cane in his hand, Maroni stood only a foot away from her. "Nothing in this business is fair darling." He tilted his head, studying her for a second." You have someone waiting for you at home?"

That was when her eyes betrayed her emotions. Her hands startled trembling but she soon gained control over them but tightening her fingers around the bag's handle. Maroni might have noticed the sudden change in her unfazed expression, because he started chuckling.

"Ah so there is. Someone special I assume?" He asked which caused her to frown in response. He took another step ahead and she took a step back. "Now you don't try anything Anna. You don't talk about us. You don't leave the town without my permission… and if you ever do that by accident. It's easy to track little rabbits down, got it?"

Her green eyes darkened and her brow creased even more. Anna knew tensing against the shaking of her limbs was useless but she did it instinctively, trying to suppress for a few more moments. She didn't break the eye contact though she didn't want to look scared or helpless even though she was both. The silence made her blood cold. No one spoke or made a sound and that just made it worse until Maroni started chuckling.

As the sound of his dark chuckles got louder, others, his men started to laugh too and that unsettled her. She looked around nervously, still clutching tight to the bag in her hands.

"What?" Maroni asked out of nowhere, raising his hand and placing it on her slender shoulder. " I was just joking. " He smirked, squeezing her shoulder so hard it started to hurt. " Don't worry Anna, you can go home." He said in a tone that supposed to be reassuring but backhanded obviously.

She didn't wasted any second, swiftly turning around and although her feet were on sore on those high heels she forced herself to walk out of the door as fast as she could, not making any eye contact with anyone. As she was about to take the old stairway to the first floor because the elevator was out of order according to Maroni's men. She heard him call. "Sleep tight baby."

Once she was out in the open air, she leaned against the dirty wall and breathed in big gulps of cold morning air to steady her nerves. Her heart was pounding hard against her chest. _It was a mistake._ _Stupid. Stupid._ Her eyes fell on the bag full of money and slowly a smile crawled on her lips. _Maybe not so stupid._ She still had won a lot of money. Still though she didn't want to ever go back to the same room as them. Taking off her high heels, she bent to pick them up. Hopefully no one was still in the alleys when she took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag on it, she started to walk away.


End file.
